


Lilacs

by orphan_account



Series: Vent fics with minimal editing. [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander isn't doing too well in the head, Angst, But he loves John, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Not really what I intended though, Synesthesia, but eh, dissociation (?), implied domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 12:36:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10021058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: when alexander looked at him, he felt dandelions bloom in his eyes, and he knew this man would be the death of him. his fists are made of lilacs, and he dreams.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This one was weird, I admit, but it was a difficult night last night when I wrote this, and everything smelled like lilacs, so all that kinda culminated into this. Hope you enjoy.  
> Written 27/28-2-17

his fists are made of lilacs, and he dreams.

alexander had always said he hated lilacs. they smelled of sunsets, of endings. their colour was reminiscent of those who had left him, abandoned him, left him to die. ehich is why when he met john, he had been wary, had been nervous, had fallen instantly for the promise of pain.

john was nice. john was caring. john was kind. when alexander looked at him, he felt dandelions bloom in his eyes, and he knew this man would be the death of him.

john was made of lilacs. when he laughed, the purple mixed with the air, tendrils weaving through clear space. when alexander hugged him, he smelled the sweet scent. when they fought, he felt the blossoms of his fists against him, and smiled through the pain. when they kissed, he tasted candied petals. john was made of lilacs, and he dreamed.

he told alexander his dreams, at least the ones from once upon a time of once upon a time. alexander listened to every one as he traced delicate flowers across john’s freckled skin, constellations amid the stars. he had wanted to explore when he was younger, wanted to traverse the earth and sea and cosmos. that was before he grew up and gave up, he said. alexander understood. they often understood each other like that, the uneven cogs of disjointed minds catching and turning together for a small while.

when he was with john, his mind was clogged with lilac blossoms, their scent making his head light and free. when they were apart, he thought of dandelions instead, the same that had seemed to bury him before.

but like all flowers, lilacs, too, must wilt, whether it be of their own accord or of another’s. he had gotten the news from lafayette, a man composed of poppies. a mugging. a gun. one shot, misfired by a scared teenager in need of money for his family’s medical bills. and just like that— the end. no romantic goodbye with his dying breath. no dramatic music swelling in the background. just a single bang, then silence. alexander had sat in stunned silence as lafayette explained it to him. 

at the funeral, he brought a stem of lilacs. the purple flowers were tucked into lilac fists. the trace of a penned lilac still spanned the stars on his hand. 

candied lilacs never tasted as sweet again.

the dandelions never left his mind.


End file.
